Names on War Memorials

Billy got a gun,
When he turned 18
Did two tours in Iraq
And got a purple heart for free
When he arrived home
The Mayor gave him a key
And said 'how proud' he was
'For serving God and country'

But Billy was an egg
With a brain now slightly fried
Watching marching bands
And the Batons on the lines
Searching for the danger
In the Cadillac landmines
The sparkles made him dread
All the fireworks of July

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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One Eyed Luna

One eyed Luna's hanging
from the rafters of nights eaves
While caught in an elliptic
Orbiting gaunt autumn trees
With bark as bare as kindling
Cracking through the rounder' beam
Of the silver maiden rapture
Imprisoned in the timber reeds
So when the wind blows the court
It leaves a thousand lighting bees
Parceling down to kiss the earth
And leave the mind at peace

For I've never seen a damsel so bright
When sweet one eyed Luna is over my sight
Tonight

In 28 day she variate's
Through magnitude and perception

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Die Hard Valley Girls

The comet came and almost everybody died
Leaving cannibals and angry red skies
Two valley girls survived, hiding behind steal
Now their kicking ass wearing Prada high heals

They have no school but they have no dates
There's only one guy and he might be gay
Fortunately for them the malls are unlocked
And Bloomingdales has super killer mark offs

Explosions fly
Zombies die,
the girls score pastime
Cause nothing's going to stop
Die hard Valley Girls

Now they dance to the swing of Cindi Lauper

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Good Canadian Weather

A glimmer of spring recedes,
as winter rebounds towards furor
Sending off the cheerful malarkey
To be draped with an abstemious simmer
The rooftops bearing with tarmac
Become throttled with frosty garments
With bars made of ice, and walls made of snow
My sights claustrophobic and glacially narrow
And in the blink of an eye you'll hear my voice gripe
Muttering nonsensical adjectives of indolent tripe

But to be perfectly frank, this is good Canadian weather

The prelude of sallow lawns
Is disrupted by the Siberian sawn
Waylaying afterglows for lost summers
For rosy cheeks purchased from arctic dowers
I've traded my Hikers for Mukluks
Annoyed by the downgrade of gear
To shovel hours away, to keep contents at bay

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Filthy

Filthy was my mother's womb
From which the creature barrowed through
Filthy is the father's gift
A dysentery vessel malignantly thrift
Filthy are the orbs that burn
Resituates of evil from a convex urn
Filthy is the cognitions blight
In wrecked collections of atrophied sight
Filthy be the tongue that wage
Indiscriminate duplicitous rage
Filthy composes the embryo man
Who never realized which way he begins

Disgust is self attraction, pontificating the irrelevant
And I am blind to the future which was due last week
While collecting old debt of childhood alimony
Making friends with the silhouettes on television
Because a dog ate my marbles and flew to the moon
While I fit as a statue of constant uncertainty,
Cradling the rags that build my daughter of gravity

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Oil War! - Alison Redfern vs Chrissie Clarkson

Chrissie Clarkson complained for the shares of the pie
Enbridge had patented what Miss Redfern had sealed
On a pledge of allegiance for a pipeline next year
Carrying the cream of the crud of reprehensible slime

There was a bipartisan difference and state of disproval
Poor Alison was chagrined with her fellow premier
Who refused to concede for more provincial revenue
When jurisdiction of the proceeds transversed through Vancouver

They met on a schooner for a provincial congregation
But neither was willing to come close and deliver
Preferring deference till three months to October
Debating rhetorical trademarks, instead ecological spilling

"It's our, it's ours" Pouted greedy nose Alison
She put her hands on her hips and said on a dare
"I'm an Albertan and we don't have to share
Oils our commodity, so you can suck it Mrs Clarkson"

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Fat: Pt 1 - Mass Media Rise Of The New Health Reich

Flicking through the channels and browsing through the net
I see the infomercial fascist, relieving junk diets for escapement
To the deprecated masses the flock for high-speed solutions.
Exalting to the virtues of tummy tucks and surgeons knives
And favoring the religion of synthetic Mount Olympians

We always chagrined these late night highwaymen
The backpedal wizards with their marketed magic potions
Dispelling pseudo wisdom in cosmetic metamorphosis
To faithful sluggish narcissists, who worship being beach peaches
With tan lines and twister riffs that credit cards for laurel rewards

But the parasitic message, were the symptom of our beliefs
The epicenter of this disaster, was in the cultural mirage
Of vacant superficial dreams, in laminated beauty queens
And replicas of golden Abs, from six pack princes airbrushed in
Then the world began to spin, from obsessions with the outer skin

Reward the blossomed roses with the lower lipid count
Smiles and affection, and leave the rotund out to drought

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Party Hardy - Its our Hobby

Make Everyday feel like its Saturday night
On blue days, when frowns, are wearing you tight
When you’re dead on the weight of your jobs paper strain
Put the effort to preplan the late night gravy train

On the electrified nights go out for the hustle
Find a neon Olympus were Greco gods get muscled
As volunteers to the parlor of indulgent fulfillments
And Dr. of Liquor sedate your feet to easy strolling

Be a high flying ace and catch a girl (maybe two)
Play the swab cavalier and a dance floor tycoon
Make a storm to her system like a sudden typhoon
It’s the time you have the dime, don't be the buffon

Even if your toes are compiled out of stone
Ignite the nitro to your femur and let the cadence go
Manouver like tiger who can foreclose without appeal
For the true language of love is our weak Achilles heal

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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5 Little Cherubs in a Sideshow Menagerie

Five little Cherubs in a sideshow menagerie
All prime in Gingham dresses with pock dots in colored blouses
Fetching public reminiscences with fondness in their cages
Don't they look quaint locked in frowns to passing strangers?

Five little cherubs in a sideshow Menagerie
Boxed up in a manor cordoned off with one way mirrors
So when they play each day their taught to see outsiders
As collecting acts of tribute for spectator pedophiles

Five little cherubs in a sideshow Menagerie
You can purchase happiness worth a $1.25
A quarter in each Matryoshka without a slice of humble pie
Softly bleed the little roses with their patent leather smiles

Five little cherubs in a Sideshow Menagerie
Coming from North Bay in the house of cards off black Tuesday
They were prized butterflies and neonatal marked commodities
They never had parents but they had industrialist doctors

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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A Man and His Goat

In this gallant democracy
Where endeavours are proven free
A man's love surpasses boundaries
Including interspecies sprees
For underneath a country sun
Lived poor Tommy Michael John
Who was raised in isolation
Taught the trade of agriculture

Quite intelligent but awkward
With a tenant for introversion
He never had a single friend
Unless a tail was it conclusion
There was Elmer the potty pig
Plus Stuart the klutzy rooster
With Matilda the bovine cow
And Pamela the Foxy Goat

And yes she was a foxy gal
With a coat of auburn locks

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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